Hey There, Mr Blue
by LolaJude164
Summary: Written for TIWF Fic Swap Challenge. What must it be like for those on the other side of the action, for those who find themselves scared and alone? For those with no hope?


_Disclaimer: Don't own Thunderbirds._

_Written for TIWF Fic Swap Challenge, for the prompt: "I'd like a Scott-fic - comedy, romance, action, whump, whatever; let's just get to know him better :)."_

***  
>It hurts.<p>

The pain rips through my stomach as I shift slightly where I lay. The beam that is pinning me to the ground is heavy, and unyielding, and the slightest movement of my torso sends my body into waves of spasms. My right hand twitches, fingers curling in to touch my bloody palm. Movement has me almost screaming in agony, but with all the strength I have left, I inch my hand along the ground, nails clawing through the dirt and ash. With numb fingers, and seeing nothing save the collapsed roof, I grope around for something, anything, that would betray some form of life around me. My hand ghosts over rivets, the keys to a car, the remains of a... a child's toy. A stuffed rabbit. Kerry's bunny rabbit. Oh god, Kerry.

_Kerry is somewhere amongst this rubble, _I realise. Dread creeps through me, and I shudder involuntarily, as though doused in frigid waters. I clench my fingers around the rabbit and bring it up to my face, basking in the familiar smells, the texture. The formerly garish pink of the fur, now turned almost gray by wear and dust is the only color in my world right now, save for the bright crimson staining my shirt. Kerry was right next to me when the building started to collapse. She could be buried amongst the rubble. She may have been dead for hours. My daughter may have been dead for hours

My hand tightens around the rabbit. I need her. I need my daughter, I need to know that she is alright. The air around me is thick with dust, as I slowly turn my head, neck straining with the effort of simply turning. I see no signs of life: no indication that there is any other survivors. I wet my lips with the last remnants of moisture in my mouth- whether it is saliva or blood, I do not know. My mouth opens; I try to call out, but only a dry croak comes out. Not good enough. With my remaining strength, I make another attempt.

"Kerry!" It comes out quiet, strained, but still audible.

Silence.

My heart shatters. Kerry isn't here. She's dead, unconcious, alone.

But then...

"Mommy?"

There is a pattering of tiny feet, the scrape of metal on metal, and my daughter careens into view. She is covered from head to toe in dust, settling into her hair, and there is a smudge of dirt on her face, but there is no sign of any blood. Relief pours through me as she pulls herself into my embrace. I stifle a cry as I am jostled. Kerry doesn't understand how much even hugging her hurts me. She is too young. Too young to realise that her mommy is dying.

"It's okay, baby," I mutter. "Everything is going to be okay."

My words soothe her, and she settles into my arm. We lie like that for what seems like hours: I feel myself grow weaker with every passing minute. I run my hand through Kerry's hair, soothing her as her head nuzzles into my side. The air is silent, dark, daunting.

A noise. Barely a squeak at first, then a shuffle. My ears perk up. There is muttering, drawing ever closer, and the crunch of boots on gravel. A small light. A man comes into view, tall and in blue. I recognize the uniform even from a distance. International rescue. I sigh in relief. Everything is going to be okay.

He turns, spots us, and starts picking his way through the rubble. My arm unconsciously tightens around Kerry, who hasn't yet noticed the man. He draws close, squeezing through the wreckage around us, and a beam of light from his torch illuminates us. I squint at him. He is wearing a helmet that obscures his face, presumably to protect him from falling debris. I vaguely hear him talking into the watch he wears on his slim wrist. "Virgil, I found them." Kerry stirs beside me, and looks up at the man, fear evident on her face. Her eyes fill with tears.

Obviously sensing her discomfort, the man lifts the visor of his helmet, revealing a stunning pair of sky blue eyes. He smiles. I feel Kerry instantly relax, and she wiggles out of my hold and crawls up to the man, eyes fixed on his face. The man crouches down to her level to meet her, long legs folded surprisingly elegantly beneath him.

"Hi," he says. His voice is deep, much deeper than I was expecting, a steady, soothing baritone. "What's your name?"

Kerry has never been shy, but in front of this man she becomes almost mute. I chuckle, then immediately regret it as my stomach screams.

"My name is Kerry," she finally says. "I am five years old." It's as if she has learnt this by rote.

The man's smile grows. "Mine's Scott. It's nice to meet you Kerry." He takes one of her tiny hands in his large, gloved one, and squeezes it in reassurance. She calms almost immediately.

"I'm from International Rescue. Is that your mom over there? What's her name?"

Kerry looks starstruck. International Rescue are unaware that they have a small fan club in Kerry's kindergarten class. It has always been her dream to meet them. However, she appears to know better than to get in the way, knows that this is not the time or place; my heart swells with pride and I nearly choke back tears as she simply says "Yes, that's my mommy. Her name's Marcy."

Scott stands up at this, and is quickly by my side. He gives me a wide grin, and it nearly blows me away how charming it is.

"It's okay, Marcy," he says, in his silky voice. "Don't try to speak."

He first takes my pulse, frowning as he gently examines the wound in my abdomen. Kerry hovers over him, peeking her head over his shoulder, in an attempt to see what he is doing. Scott continues to examine my wound; he doesn't seem to have noticed her presence. His eyes previously so full of life become sad, as he realized exactly what I have known all along. Only two people were going to be making it out of here alive.

Kerry pipes up.

"Is my mommy gonna be okay?"

Scott doesn't answer.

Kerry pouts a little at this. I reach out to stroke her hair as Scott fiddles with his watch. The pain has stopped, or perhaps I have become so desensitized to it, I no longer notice it's presence. He eyes the beam pinning me in distaste before turning to Kerry and taking her hands. "We're gonna have to wait for my friend Virgil so we can get her out, okay?" He gently wipes at a trail of blood starting to come from my mouth. I already know they are never going to manage. The beam has pierced too many organs, and now the only thing keeping me from dying immediately is its continuing presence. Yet, they'll try anyway.

"'Kay," Kerry answers, flicking idly at the ear of her rabbit. This answer seems to have satisfied her for she holds the rabbit out for Scott to examine.

"Do you want to meet my bunny? His name is Peter, and he's really fuzzy, see?" She waves the bunny in front of Scott's face, and brushes a single dirty paw against his cheek. I giggle, and begin to cough.

Scott switches from serious to kind in a fraction of a second. "Wow, you're right!" he says, with exactly the right amount of amazement in his voice. He reaches out his hand, and shakes one of Peter's paws between two fingers. Kerry seems sufficiently pleased with his response, for she goes back to playing with Peter, making him hop over the debris and dance along the fallen beams.

He's good with kids, I notice. It's clear he has experience with keeping them calm in otherwise terrifying situations. He'd make a great dad. A great brother. For the first time I wonder who he goes home to at night, whether he has a wife, kids. He'll certainly make someone happy one day.

Kerry has clearly gotten bored already, for her mind has already flown on to another thought.

"Do you fly the big green one?"

"The big green rabbit?" Scott has obviously not kept up with Kerry's thought train.

Kerry giggles. "No, silly! The big green plane!"

"Oooh," Scott says with great theatricality. I stifle another giggle, and everything seems to mute slightly. What colors there are are slightly less vivid, and Scott's voice becomes a trifle fainter. Scott's eyes flick over to me for a fraction of a second- it is clear he has been monitoring me carefully, even when talking to my daughter. His eyes return to Kerry. "No, that's Virgil's plane. I fly Thunderbird One- the big blue one."

Kerry's mouth drops open, and Scott chuckles, before reaching over to close it for her. She giggles, and squirms away, settling herself further into my arm. I idly notice the sound of a vehicle moving steadily closer.

"I like that one," she muses. "It's shiny. But I like the green one the best. It's bigger. Ginormous."

Scott pouts, and the image of a grown man with such a childish expression on his face has both me and Kerry giggling like little girls. Pain shoots once again through my body, and I can feel my grip on Kerry loosening, but I ignore it. "I'm sure Virgil will be very happy you think that," he says.

Kerry reaches up, and pats Scott's helmet.

"Don't be sad," she soothes, and I recognise the affection of her best adult voice. "I like you very much. Much better than I like Vir-Jil. You're my favorite Thunderbird."

Scott chuckles, but doesn't correct her. "You're my favorite five year old girl," he says, ruffling her hair.

Kerry laughs, then goes completely silent. A troubled expression clouds her face, as though she is conflicted about something. My eyes start to gently close as silence takes over, but then they snap open as she starts to speak once again.

"Here," she says steadfastly, holding out Peter to Scott. Scott doesn't move, simply staring at the offering in front of him.

"Oh no Kerry, you don't have to do that."

"It's okay. My daddy is getting me a new rabbit. Peter is really really really ancient, so my daddy said he'd go out and get me a brand new one. It's gonna be blue. It'll be blue, and I shall call it Scott." Kerry has a determined look in her eye, and as Scott takes Peter, and places him gently into the holster on his sash, I feel my eyes start closing once again. The sounds get fainter and fainter.

"Thank you very much, Kerry. I'll keep him in this little pouch here, how about that? He can be my good luck...Marcy? Marcy!"

I give a weak smile, as my eyes close and I gently fade away.

"Take care of them."

_Hey there mister blue_  
><em>We're so pleased to be with you<em>  
><em>Look around see what you do<em>  
><em>Ev'rybody smiles at you<em>

_(ELO- Mr Blue Sky)_


End file.
